


I Found You

by iammisscullen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Headcanon, M/M, very short, zarry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iammisscullen/pseuds/iammisscullen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn couldn’t get it out of his head. The articles were a month old but they were screaming at him as if it was happening now. He wanted to go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Found You

**Author's Note:**

> I made this short rubbish for my journal in Creative Writing class. [sourly] Haha. IDEK.

 

_In all fairness Harry does always ask me if I’m ok._

_Just pops up, like, ‘Are you alright mate?’_

_He checks up on me. Is he my rock? Yeah._

-Zayn Malik

 

Zayn couldn’t get it out of his head. The articles were a month old but they were screaming at him as if it was happening now. And he thought he was immune to the harsh words they’ve used to describe him. He was wrong.

It still felt like a very fast train hitting him in slow motion, as if savouring his pain. It wasn’t quick, that was the worst part. It was a slow torture, like every word was a nail being hammered into his body. It wasn’t fair.

He made a mistake and people look at him as if smoking weed was murder. If it was, he was killing himself… not them. Yet he was treated like a pariah by the media.

All he wanted was to curl up in his room – not his hotel room – but _his_ room. The one he owns in his house in London. He wanted to be in his own bed with linens that smelled like _Downy_ and cigarette. He needed a breeze of familiarity. He wanted home.

‘You okay mate?’ Harry suddenly popped out of nowhere and had startled Zayn.

‘’M fine,’ he answered weakly, not even convincing himself. Harry frowned. ‘I’m okay, Haz. Thanks.’ He offered a small smile that looked so fragile it was like a breakable glass.

‘Okay,’ Harry said and walked away.

And all Zayn could think of was, _I’m not okay. Please notice._

But Harry wasn’t a mind reader so he couldn’t hear Zayn’s silent pleas, screaming at him.

**

When they were on stage, Zayn was most of the time distracted. He hasn’t missed his lines but he wasn’t smiling like before. His brows were furrowed as he remembered the things on the different articles: ADDICT, BAD INFLUENCE, FAKE, JUVENILE, etc. He was lost inside his head while Niall thanked the fans in the background. Before he knew it, a pale strong arm had snaked on his shoulder.

‘Malik,’ Harry called, grinning at Zayn. Harry’s deep dimples were showing, there were beads of sweat on his face, and the ridiculous bandana was no longer neatly tucked around his head. He smelled of aftershave, Blue by Chanel, still the same one he has used even from before. It smelled familiar. Harry felt like home.

‘Zayn?’

‘Mh-mm?’

‘How do you know if it’s a bloke or a bird inside the loo?’ Harry whispered, leaning closer to Zayn. His warm breath tingling Zayn’s sensitive ear.

Zayn knew that it was another of those silly jokes that Harry had invented. And Zayn was sure he had read it from Harry’s moleskin that one time he stole it from the younger lad. But he’s go along Harry this time, Harry’s coconut scented shampoo had enchanted him to tolerate and keep the boy near him as much as possible.

‘I don’t know,’ Zayn answered in mock confusion. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the boy though. Harry either didn’t see or pretended not to notice. And somehow, in between his answer and eye rolling, Zayn had manage to wound an arm around Harry’s waist – unconsciously.

‘Simple.’ Another show off of dimples as Harry grinned wider as if it was the most amusing thing on the planet. ‘You wait for them to come out of the loo.’ And yes, he chuckled at his own joke.

That went on for the rest of the night. Harry, still smelling like Chanel, would appear next to Zayn to whisper a joke or two. Or sometimes would say a funny comment. And he’d offer Zayn that can-light-up-a-whole-town smile.

By the end of the night, Zayn was smiling with Harry beside him, telling an awful funny story during the time that the lad had bought a sandwich in LA. And as Zayn looked at Harry, he realized that he had found a temporary home with the boy who was willing to look stupid with his silly jokes just to make Zayn smile. The boy who still smelled like before. And maybe Zayn just didn’t notice that home could be someone’s arms that you are familiar with. So Zayn reached out and held Harry’s hand. He was home.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
